


under the mask

by glittergelpens



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Jamie is Ladybug, Kevamie Week 2020, Kevin is Chat Noir, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittergelpens/pseuds/glittergelpens
Summary: In the beginning, he treated it like a game.Not the superhero-ing, no. Not the world-saving, nor the city-defending. He took that seriously from the start, even if he had to do it in a leather catsuit.But his partner in crime—Ladybug, infuriatingly familiar and mysterious in equal measure, impressively level-headed at the worst of times, the sweetheart of the city, the savior of the people?Kevin—no,Chat Noir—couldn’t help but slip in a pick-up line here and there, a sly joke, a wink in the middle of combat, a raunchy pun as the wind was knocked out of him. It was fun to see the composed superhero lose his cool, to see him squawk in surprise, to see him flushed under his mask, even if all he got in response were exasperated sighs and demands that he focus on the task at hand. It was playful, it was fun, it was agame—At least, that’s what he’d told himself.
Relationships: Jamie/Kevin (Steven Universe)
Kudos: 14





	1. 12:34 AM

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a late entry for AU day of Kevamie Week 2020, hosted on Tumblr by nicorii :)  
> Go check out her blog to see the other cool things that people have been writing and drawing for it!

In the beginning, he treated it like a game.  
Not the superhero-ing, no. Not the world-saving, nor the city-defending. He took that seriously from the start, even if he had to do it in a leather catsuit.  
But his partner in crime—Ladybug, infuriatingly familiar and mysterious in equal measure, impressively level-headed at the worst of times, the sweetheart of the city, the savior of the people?  
Kevin—no, Chat Noir—couldn’t help but slip in a pick-up line here and there, a sly joke, a wink in the middle of combat, a raunchy pun as the wind was knocked out of him. It was fun to see the composed superhero lose his cool, to see him squawk in surprise, to see him flushed under his mask, even if all he got in response were exasperated sighs and demands that he focus on the task at hand. It was playful, it was fun, it was a _game_ —  
At least, that’s what he’d told himself.  
Ladybug was strong. Resilient. Impressively agile and quick on his feet. And, most of all, he was entirely unattainable, what with the anonymity and all. When Kevin thought hard about it, it seemed that this was the most appealing factor to him. No commitment, no concern; he didn’t have to worry about being burned if his crush was only a mask.  
Besides, it was much easier to think about Ladybug than it was to think about people in his day-to-day life. Sabina? A memory better left repressed. The people he kissed at parties? He wasn’t even sure he got any of their names. Jamie?  
...Jamie was a whole new can of worms that Kevin would rather not think too deeply about. He didn’t want to stop seeing him, and it had been so fun to make him flushed by flirting with him in plausibly deniable ways, but he knew it could only last so long before it would blow up in his face.  
It was easier to chase after Ladybug’s silhouette in the dark, to chase the fantasy without commitment, than it was to turn around and face Jamie’s crestfallen expression when he’d realized what he’d done. 

\---

Chat Noir landed lightly on top of the office building, turning to give the city one last scan from his vantage point. It was dark and quiet, calm on a warm summer night. He sighed as he pulled up his communicator and flipped it open.  
“West side is quiet tonight,” he reported. “How’s East?”  
There were a few seconds of silence before his communicator chirped back to life in his hand. “East is quiet, too,” came Ladybug’s voice. He was speaking quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of wind whipping against the microphone. “Meet back at the rendezvous point?”  
“Already there.”  
“I’ll just be a second.”  
Chat perched on the edge of the building, seated comfortably on the half-wall as his legs dangled over the city lights. A soft thud sounded behind him but he didn’t react, used to the rhythms of his partner. Ladybug appeared silently at his side, legs dangling alongside his. Chat looked at him closely, appreciating the way the lights illuminated his face, even as Ladybug shot him a disapproving glare. He grinned.  
“Quit staring at me,” Ladybug reprimanded.  
“Quit being pretty,” Chat countered without missing a beat.  
Usually, Ladybug would groan, looking away to hide the fact that he was actually smiling. This time he didn’t react, face carefully expressionless.  
Chat furrowed his brows. “Cat got your tongue, Bugaboo?” he asked, trying to read his face.  
Ladybug sighed and turned back towards the city below them. “I’m just tired,” he said quietly. “Long day, and all.”  
Usually, Ladybug was full of energy when they were done patrolling. Usually, Ladybug would be excited to talk about his day, spinning yarns a mile long and giving each character their own voice.  
Chat didn’t know what to do when Ladybug fell quiet.  
“Do you want to… talk about it?” he tried.  
Ladybug shrugged. “It’s a long story. And it’s about my love life, anyways. I don’t want to, like… make you uncomfortable.”  
“You talking about your problems might distract me from my own,” he tried, shooting him a grin. “First, the man of my dreams just told me he has a love life outside of me, and I feel really betrayed,” he sighed dramatically. Ladybug laughed quietly and smacked him on the arm. Something warmed Chat’s chest and his grin softened, glad to see a break in Ladybug’s composure.  
“It’s just,” Ladybug started, looking back out over the city, “it’s literally a mess. I don’t even know where to begin.”  
“Try the start.”  
Another smack to Chat’s arm. “You sure?”  
“Go on before I change my mind.”  
Ladybug dragged a hand down his face. “So there’s this guy,” he started. “We’ve been friends for a while, I think. I never know what to call him. We go on outings that he sarcastically calls dates, he flirts with me the entire time and buys me dinner, but whenever I flirt back he laughs and stops.”  
“Confusing,” Chat chirped.  
“Agreed,” hummed Ladybug. “I’ve been pretty into him for a while now, though, so a couple of weeks ago I decided to try to ask him about it on our next ‘date’. We went to the amusement park—”  
“Funland?”  
“—Yeah, of course it was Funland, and we went on a few rides—  
“The Ferris wheel?”  
“—I mean, of course, it’s the best ride,” Ladybug huffed, annoyed at the interruptions.  
Chat paused, wondering what had compelled him to interrupt.  
Something about this felt familiar, but he couldn’t place it.  
“I waited until we were at the top of the wheel before bringing it up, actually. I thought it might be more romantic, I guess, but instead of talking about it, I just kind of… panicked. I kissed him instead.”  
Chat whistled low.  
“Shut up, I know. He, uh… didn’t take it well, though.”  
Chat tried to focus on the story, but the overwhelming feeling of deja vu overwhelmed his mind and clouded his thoughts. Why did this sound so familiar? Why did he feel that he’d heard this story before? _Why did he know how it ended?_  
“He got really quiet until the Ferris wheel ended, and then he made some bullshit excuse about needing to feed his cat before he ditched me there. And get this, _he doesn’t even have a cat._ ”  
“That’s…” Chat began, but he quickly realized he didn’t know what to say. He’d been too lost in the fog of memory to think of a response. “That’s a really shitty excuse,” he settled on. “This guy sounds like a dick.”  
Ladybug shrugged. “I don’t know. We got along great before this. I think I just jumped the gun, I should have asked him before I went for it. I just… assumed too much.”  
Chat shook his head. “No, you’re the coolest. This guy can’t expect to flirt with you for months without you getting the wrong idea,” he countered, doing his best to form a cohesive response. _When did thinking get so hard?_  
“I don’t know,” Ladybug repeated. “I’m no hotshot without the mask. I don’t have the confidence. Or the flexibility, or the gusto, or whatever the hell else it is that people like about Ladybug.”  
“Don’t talk about Ladybug like you aren’t him. If Ladybug is hot shit, it’s because you’re hot shit,” he argued.  
“No, Chat,” he groaned. “I’m nothing like Ladybug in real life. I get rejected _so_ much. I do so many auditions and I get hardly any calls back. My agent’s probably this close to dropping me after this show.”  
_Auditions? Agent? Shows?_ This was the most detail that Ladybug had ever given about his personal life. While Chat felt like the pieces should be falling into place, they repelled one another like opposing magnets instead. His head throbbed.  
“Hell, I even got rejected by the guy who’s been flirting with me for months,” Ladybug continued. “I was planning to say no when he asked me out, but… I can’t say no to Kevin,” he sighed, defeated.  
Chat froze.  
Whatever fog had been occluding his thoughts lifted quicker than it had come. 

\---

_Kevin froze.  
He held his breath, balanced on a thin wire in the gondola of the Ferris wheel, the wheels in his mind screeched to a halt as Jamie pressed their lips together.  
A spark danced from Kevin’s lips down to his toes, sending a shiver along with it. All of the attraction to Jamie that he’d tried to ignore bubbled to the surface, threatening to drown him. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to grab him by the waist at parties and not worry who saw. He wanted to push his hair back and leave a bruise on his neck. But most of all, he wanted to hold him. He wanted to ask how he was doing. He wanted to love him.  
Jamie tasted like blueberry chapstick.  
He pulled back and opened his eyes, nerves obvious on his face.  
Kevin wanted to say everything. Kevin wanted to say nothing.  
He opened his mouth, but no noise came out.  
“Kevin?” Jamie asked, the syllables shaking in his mouth.  
“I, um,” he started, but no words came forward. He glanced towards the ground and noticed that they were almost to the end. “Jamie, I…”  
The gondola stopped at the base and the attendant opened the door for them.  
“Have a fun time at Funland!” he chirped, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Kevin stood and stepped out of the gondola, reaching the bottom of the stairs before Jamie had even reached the platform. He gnawed on his nails.  
“Kevin,” Jamie panted as he caught up. “I’m sorry, that was unprompted, are you okay?” he asked.  
“I have to go feed my cat,” Kevin blurted.  
“What?” Jamie asked, surprise clear on his face.  
“I have to go feed my cat,” he repeated. “I forgot. Sorry. Bye.”  
He turned heel and started walking to the exit before Jamie could say another word. He’d half expected Jamie to follow him, to grab his shoulder and apologize or ask for an explanation—he was dramatic like that, anyways—but Jamie stayed rooted to the spot, crestfallen, until he had to get out of the way for more people to board the Ferris wheel. _

\---

Chat fell quiet for a minute, eyes rooted to an arbitrary point on the street below.  
For the first time, he remembered Jamie’s earrings. He looked at Ladybug, at the studs on his ears. So innocuous in the day, so important in the night. Ladybug turned to look at him, concerned.  
“Chat?” he asked, voice soft. “Are you doing alright?”  
He didn’t know how to respond. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  
Ladybug— _Jamie?_ —sighed and turned away again. “I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”  
Chat tried to tell him that no, that wasn’t the problem at all, but then he’d have to admit what the problem _was_ , and he wasn’t sure he could string together a sentence at the moment other than _Are you Jamie?_  
He stood up. Ladybug’s eyes followed him, confused and defeated, asking him to stay and daring him to leave again.  
“I just remembered I have homework due at midnight,” he lied, legs shaking. “I, uh, have to go. Hope you feel better soon. Night.”  
He vaulted off of the building and vanished into the night before Ladybug could even respond. Ladybug sat in the silence for a moment, hand outstretched in disbelief and mind clouded with deja vu, before his arm dropped to his side in defeat.  
He fumbled his phone out of his pocket with a shaky hand and turned on the screen.  
_12:34 AM,_ it read. He sighed bitterly. _Of course._  
He stood on unsteady legs before making a running leap off of the building, throwing out his yo-yo and arcing low over the city streets. As fast as he tore between buildings, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was all too familiar about this mess.


	2. Jamie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some terminology/explanations in case you've never seen Miraculous Ladybug before. Feel free to skip it if you've seen it or don't care! Just here to save you the trouble of googling if you don't get something, haha.  
> Ladybug and Chat Noir both have enchanted accessories (Ladybug's earrings, Chat Noir's ring) that come with Qwamis. They're sentient little creatures who are bonded to whoever wears the accessory. They're really small and can float. Ladybug's qwami, Tikki, is ladybug-like, and Chat Noir's, Plaag, is cat-like. They're only four or so inches tall and they can fly. They're visible and tangible to people other than the person they're bonded to, but they try to stay hidden to anyone else to avoid their secret getting out.  
> To initiate their transformation into or out of their superhero selves, they have little catchphrases. "Spots on" and "Spots off" for Ladybug, "Claws out" and "Claws in" for Chat Noir.  
> "Akumas" are the names of the cursed butterflies that cause normal people to become supervillains under their influence.  
> 

Jamie stared at his reflection in the mirror, at the shape he made with his body, at the angles of his arms and legs.  
“Maybe lift your arm a little higher,” Tikki suggested, hovering carefully around his shoulder. He made the adjustment and nodded, noticing the benefit from the more dramatic angle. He took a careful step to the side, listening to Tikki quietly count for him as he ran through the steps for the night’s dance at half speed. He knew it by heart, but the repetition was soothing for his frayed nerves. Tikki had listened to him pour his heart out about Kevin and Chat a time and a half already, but she knew that the time was gone for soothing; Jamie felt better when he was distracted, anyways. He found himself humming the song as he moved, running over his lines and his steps in tandem, but he jolted out of his reverie as the door to the studio opened.  
Tikki barely had time to slip into Jamie’s bag before Kiki stepped in, her duffle slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face. “Hi, Jamie!” she cooed, dropping her bag by the door and joining him in front of the mirror. “Sorry I’m late, I missed my bus.”  
“It’s no problem, really,” he said. “I’ve just been running through the steps for my solo again.”  
“Isn’t that the part you know best?” she asked, a dubious look on her face.  
He flushed. “I mean, probably, yes, but it’s also the part I’m most nervous about. It’s so much easier for me to keep in time when there are other people dancing around me.”  
She nodded. “I get it. And you have to be perfect up there for your _man_.” She snickered as he groaned, not noticing the pained look that crossed his face.  
Jamie locked eyes with his reflection again, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t think he’ll be coming, actually,” he said quietly.  
She stopped laughing. “Wait, what?” she asked, worry in her eyes. “What happened?”  
Jamie felt the humiliation rise up in his chest again. “I… don’t tell anyone, okay?” he asked, and she nodded immediately. He glanced in the mirror to make sure the door behind them was shut before continuing. “I may have… kissed him. A couple days ago. It didn’t end well.”  
He could almost hear Kiki deflate. “No way,” she insisted. “He’s been flirting with you for months, he didn’t even want a kiss?”  
Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess not. I don’t really… want to talk about it. I’d rather just focus on the show.”  
Kiki’s worried eyes lingered on him for just a moment before nodding. “Okay,” she agreed. “You can focus on showing up _Edward_ instead."  
Jamie snorted. "Oh, come on, leave him alone. He's just upset that he didn't get lead."  
"I won't leave him alone, he's being a dick!" she insisted. "And come on, he's a _backup_ dancer, if you hadn't gotten the lead he certainly wouldn't have either."  
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Right, okay, I'll just be an amazing lead to rub it in his face then, because that'll make everything better."  
"Maybe it will!" she tried.  
"And _maybe_ he'll just get akumatized and try to kill me," Jamie pointed out.  
"Why are you so obsessed with akuma attacks?" Kiki sighed.  
"Why aren't _you_? Didn't one kidnap you before?" he asked, eyebrow raised.  
She shrugged. "The past is the past. Let's practice our steps."  
He laughed as he shook his head, getting into position. 

\---

 _“Fuck!”_  
The needle fell to the floor and Kevin fell down after it, running his hands gently over the carpet, trying to find it before he stepped on it. He was attempting to finish the beadwork for his final project of the semester: a flashy leather jacket with a hand-beaded design on the back panel. It was going to be _sick_. The issue was that he still had a quarter of the beading to do, and time was running out.  
Kevin pulled his phone from his pocket and turned on the flashlight, sighing in relief when the reflected light made the needle visible in the carpeting. He picked it up and turned off the light, pocketing his phone as he sat back down in front of his work. He leaned his chin on his left hand and groaned.  
_I’m off my game,_ he noticed. He’d poked himself and dropped his needle more in the two days since his revelation than he had in the rest of the semester combined. His fingertips ached from it. It was as though he’d finally fought off the fog regarding Ladybug’s identity only for it to cloud into his daily life, looming over him, reminding him constantly that _Jamie is Ladybug and you fucked it up with both of them._  
He didn’t go on patrol the night after their conversation. He went out with his class friends instead, drinking their worries away and sloppily critiquing one another’s designs from the pictures on their cellphones. He’d expected a sign that Ladybug was waiting for him—a chirp on the communicator, maybe a message through Plaag, but nothing came.  
He was almost disappointed, but he couldn’t place why.  
Plaag drifted into the room, back from raiding the fridge.  
“You need to get more cheese, dude,” he whined, settling on a pile of scrap fabric.  
“Be quiet,” Kevin snapped. “I need to focus.”  
“You haven’t focused all day,” Plaag pointed out. “You’re too busy thinking about _Jamie_ —”  
“I said be _quiet_ ,” Kevin spat. He kept trying to thread his needle, but beading needles are _so_ damn small and his hands were shaking.  
He swore and jabbed the pin into his pincushion, holding his head in his hands and groaning loudly. “This _sucks_ ,” he complained.  
“ _There_ it is,” Plaag sighed.  
“Why did it have to be Jamie? Of all people!” Kevin stood abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair.  
“Of _course_ it’s Jamie, you idiot! Why do you think you got along so well? It’s his Ladybug energy, or whatever!”  
“But I never…” Kevin started, trailing off as he looked out the window. Golden light filled the streets from the setting sun. “I never took it _seriously_.”  
“Keep telling yourself that,” Plaag snarked. “You ‘never took Ladybug seriously’ either, and look where that got you.”  
“I just—” Kevin started, but he quickly realized he didn’t know what else to say. “I guess I just thought that… Ladybug was the end goal, and Jamie was there for some fun along the way. I didn’t mean to fucking—” he stopped himself abruptly, pressing a hand to his mouth in frustration as his eyebrows knit together.  
“Didn’t mean to fall for him, huh?” Plaag guessed, drifting over and settling on Kevin’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say it, dude. I can read your aura, or whatever. I know what’s going on.”  
Kevin’s shoulders drooped. “This is a mess,” he complained, but he didn't deny it. He wasn't sure he had it in him to deny it.  
“Uh-huh,” Plaag agreed. “But the bright side is that it also simplifies some things. You don’t have to worry about having a thing for Jamie _and_ Ladybug if they’re the same person.”  
“I guess you’re right.”  
“And it would be nice to be able to talk to someone about superhero-ing, yeah?”  
Kevin sat down on the foot of his bed. “Ladybug has always been so big on keeping our identities a secret. If he finds out that I know who he is, he’ll freak out. And I’m sure he’s already pissed at me as it is, for…”  
“Ditching him twice?” Plaag suggested. “Rejecting him rudely? Lying? Not going to the opening night of his musical? Yeah, maybe.” He waited for a response, but none came. He sighed dramatically. “Yeah, okay, it’s a mess, but at the very least, you don’t have to tell him you know who he is. You can just… patch things up and romance him as Kevin, lay off as Chat, and see where things go from there, yeah?”  
Kevin paused for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Yeah, I guess.”  
Plaag patted his cheek. “You’ll be alright, okay? This’ll pass, and the two of you will be stronger for it.”  
Kevin snorted. “When did you get all sentimental?” he asked, eyeing Plaag.  
Plaag scoffed. “Sentimental? _Me_?” He floated up, above Kevin’s head, and crossed his arms. “Never. I could never care about a man with _no cheese in his apartment_.”  
Kevin laughed and swatted him away, knowing he’d have to stock up on gruyere soon.

\---

Kevin sat in his idling car, staring nervously at the ticket in his hand. He was early. “So, what, just… wait for him afterward?”  
“If that’s what you want to do,” Plaag yawned from his sunning spot on the dashboard.  
“Should I text him? To make sure he knows I’m here?”  
“If you want,” Plaag repeated.  
“Maybe a surprise would have been better. Should I go get flowers?”  
“You’d have to hold them for the whole show or they’d die in the car. And you’re not that early; you’d be late to the show if you left now.”  
“Right. No flowers.”  
“Why don’t you just go inside?” Plaag asked.  
“I don’t want to seem too eager,” he snipped.  
“Why not?”  
Kevin opened his mouth to reply but realized he couldn’t think of a good reason. Instead, he groaned, grabbing his wallet from the center console and turning off his car. He kept his head down on the way in, nerves constricting in his chest—  
The lobby was empty.  
Completely and utterly empty.  
He checked his phone—The musical was supposed to start in ten minutes. Sure, it was the second night, but there should have been people here. A lot of them, in fact. _Maybe they’re all in the auditorium already?_ He approached the large double doors and tried the handle, but the door was locked. Frustrated, he pulled out his ticket to double-check the date and time against the one on his phone. They matched. _What the hell?_  
A side door opened and a janitor bustled in. Kevin’s head whipped up and the janitor froze on the spot.  
“Where is everyone?” Kevin asked, bewildered.  
The janitor seemed baffled. “You didn’t hear?” he asked. Kevin shook his head uneasily. “There’s an akuma attack on the other side of the city, so they had to cancel. Besides, the leading actor hasn’t shown up or sent any word on where he is… he might be tangled up in all that’s going on. Show can’t go on without him.”  
“You’re kidding me,” Kevin groaned, pulling out his phone. “How did I not hear about this?”  
The janitor shrugged, returning to his work. “Not sure. It’s over by the city center, last I heard.”  
Kevin was already halfway to the door, panic rising as hours-old news articles popped up on his phone. _Shit. Shit. Shit.  
He is going to be so pissed at me. _

\---

Chat Noir vaulted between buildings, eyes scanning the horizon at record speed.  
_Where are they?_  
According to all of the most recent reports, Ladybug and the akumatized creature should be in the middle of a dramatic fight in the center of the city, but… He landed lightly on top of an office building and scanned the area.  
The streets were empty.  
No pedestrians. No traffic. Nobody entering or exiting the shops. No Ladybug, no akuma. He couldn’t even hear anything happening in the distance.  
Just as a sense of hopelessness settled in, he saw him—a flash of red darting between buildings, gone as quick as he’d appeared.  
Chat was off in a flash after him.  
He dashed over buildings, through alleys, down streets, but couldn’t find Ladybug again (or anyone else, for that matter). He groaned loudly and started walking down the middle of a usually-busy street, cupping his hands to his mouth.  
“Ladybug?” he called. His voice echoed out. “Laaadybu—”  
His voice cut out abruptly as something knocked him clear across the street. He fell to his back, dazed, and blinked his eyes open to see Ladybug kneeling over him, a finger pressed to his lips.  
“Chat, be _quiet_ ,” he snarled, standing slowly. “I have it handled. Just… stay here.”  
Chat snatched his hand before he could walk off without him. “Wait, Bugaboo,” he protested, pushing himself to his feet, “I’m sorry I’m late, let me help—”  
“Late?” Ladybug all but growled. He coughed suddenly, clutching at his side. “Right. You catch me when I’m at my lowest point, get me to open up, _ditch me_ , and then you don’t show up to a battle until the last second and apologize for being _late_?” Ladybug shook Chat’s hand off of his own. “I’ve already got a trap set, Chat, and once the akuma trips it we’re in the clear. Just stay out of my way this time.” He turned and started walking away again, hand still holding his side.  
Panic rose in Chat’s chest. _This is not how this was supposed to go. This is NOT how this was supposed to go._ He stepped forward, grabbing for his shoulder in a desperate attempt to say something. Anything. Anything that would help.  
“Please, Jamie, wait,” he whined.  
Ladybug froze in his steps. It only took a half-second for Chat to realize why.  
Ladybug whirled around to face him, fear clear in his eyes.  
“What did you just say?” he said. He tried to sound demanding, but his voice was all but gone.  
Chat panicked. “I said please, baby, wait,” he tried, but he could tell by the intensity of Ladybug’s—no, Jamie’s—gaze that he wasn’t buying it.  
He opened his mouth to say something, but before the sound could come out, the sound of twisting metal screeched through the quiet streets of the city.  
“The akuma,” Ladybug said under his breath. “Fuck. I—We’re discussing this when I’m done,” he insisted, but he’d already turned around, already started running, already gone to go save the day.

\---

He said my name.  
He said my name.  
_He said my name._  
Ladybug sprinted down the street, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side and the whirling thoughts in his mind to aim for the obviously writhing tangle in his tripwire.  
Invisible little bastard.  
The only visible part was the warped ceramic cat that lay next to it on the street. Without a second thought, Ladybug stomped on it, shattering it into the pavement before the akuma had even freed their ankles. A dark, hazy butterfly tried to flutter out to freedom from the shattered cat, but he whipped his yo-yo after it, snagging it in the nick of time. He pulled it back and pressed into it, popping the lid open; a pure white butterfly came out this time. He let it go.  
The reset button had been hit, and the effects rippled out from Jamie like a drop in a pond. The shattered cat was whole again, the street lights stood straight once more, and one by one, the pedestrians reappeared on the sidewalks.  
He hardly glanced down at the confused woman sitting in the akuma's place. She was holding the ceramic cat in her hands.  
He turned and staggered down a nearby alley before his suit caught too much attention, his mind whirling, his side throbbing in pain. The reset button hadn’t reset the kick he'd taken earlier. He groaned; he’d really hoped it would.  
_Please, Jamie, wait,_ echoed Chat Noir’s voice in his head.  
He felt like vomiting.  
_How could he know?_ he wondered, making random turns between buildings to avoid being followed. _All I told him was that I had a bad date with a guy named Kevin. There's a million guys named Kevin in this city. The only other person who would know all of the details is…_  
He knew, but his mind rejected the idea immediately.  
_Kevin isn't Chat Noir,_ he told himself. _There’s no way that Chat's Kevin.  
But who else could he be?_  
His brain was fogged, almost deliberately, almost strategically. _Who else would know the details of our bad date? Did he tell anyone else? He wouldn’t. Only he could know, but—_  
But it felt wrong. The concept of Kevin being Chat didn’t fit, it felt impossible in his mind. The concept of Kevin, who’d rejected him, being the very same Chat who’d been flirting with him for months, was laughable at best.  
But the thought still lingered.  
Jamie felt like he was going to puke.  
Soft footsteps landed on the pavement behind him and he felt panic rise in his chest. He walked faster.  
“Ladybug,” came Chat Noir’s voice. “Please, we need to talk about this. Just give me a second to explain.”  
“Not now,” he choked out, fumbling for his yo-yo. “Please leave me alone.”  
“I don’t want to be unfair!” Chat continued. He appeared at Ladybug’s side, but Ladybug refused to look at him. “Listen, I’m sorry that I put it together without you, but I didn’t _mean_ to! Look, I’ll even tell you now, so we can be on a level playing field—”  
“Don’t,” Ladybug snapped. “Please don’t—”  
“ _Claws in._ ”  
Too late.  
He didn’t look. He physically couldn’t. The green light show coming from his side was intense, but he didn’t even glance.  
“Please, Ladybug,” Chat continued. And then, quieter: “... Jamie.”  
Jamie closed his eyes tight, but even though he didn’t look—  
With the magic out of the way, with the transformation over, it was so _easy_ to tell. It was almost laughable that he'd never recognized Kevin’s voice before. And it finally clicked for him, why Kevin always wore that gaudy ring that wasn’t his style, why it always seemed so familiar.  
Ladybug pulled out his yo-yo, aiming for one of the fire escapes on top of the building in front of them. He threw it and it held tight.  
He sighed.  
“Just give me some fucking space, Kevin.”  
He zipped off into the skyline without once looking back.


	3. the lead

Jamie stared himself down in his vanity mirror.   
_I am going to do this,_ he told himself, fist clenched on the tabletop. _I’ll go out there and play my role and be so damn good that it won’t even matter that we had to cancel that show._ He stood up, giving his makeup another look-over in the mirror before turning to go get his costume. He took one last breath to steel himself.   
_I’ll be so damn good that it won’t even matter that Kevin never came._

\---

Kevin came.   
He sat in the second row, fidgeting nervously with his phone while he waited for the show to start.   
_Just give me some fucking space, Kevin,_ Jamie’s voice echoed in his head. Kevin groaned and hunched down in his seat, suddenly self-conscious. Plaag rustled in the hood of his jacket.   
“What’s the hubbub, kid?” he hissed, squirming under the fabric. “You’re going to crush me here!”   
Kevin glanced around before pulling the hood over his shoulder and ducking his head closer. “What if I’m making a mistake?” he whispered, eyeing the stage. “He told me to give him space. Should I even be here?”   
The lump in his hood groaned melodramatically. “Dude, you’ll never fix things with him if you never try. And you kind of HAVE to fix things with him, for the sake of, you know. Saving the world, and all.” Kevin opened his mouth to reply, but the lights in the auditorium began to dim. He sucked in his breath. “Too late to leave now, anyway,” Plaag grumbled. “Turn off your phone. Come on, basic etiquette.”   
Kevin set his phone to silent and pocketed it. Plaag rustled in his hood in the darkness, peeking his eyes out to watch. Kevin had half of a mind to hide him fully—Hell, he could completely blow their cover—but the room was dark, nobody was sitting to his side, and he was sure it would be a good show.   
He settled in, low in his seat, half relishing and half dreading the thought of Jamie spotting him in the audience. 

\---

Jamie stumbled into Kiki on the way out of his dressing room. Her eyes were frantic. “Jamie,” she breathed, “you won’t _believe_ what just happened.”   
Jamie’s eyebrows went up as she held his first costume out to him. “What is it?” he asked, taking it from her.   
“It’s Edward again! The director caught him trying to cut your costume to shreds.”   
Jamie’s jaw dropped. “ _What?_ ” he shrilled. He shook out his costume, checking it for damage, but—  
“He didn’t get to do it, she found him with the scissors in his hand, ready to hack into it. He said something about—if your costume was ruined, but your backup costume wasn’t, and he was the only one who fit into it, or something—”   
“He thought we wouldn’t just use a different costume?”   
“I don’t know! It was a big scene though, she kicked him out. He’s off the show.”   
Jamie looked at the fabric in his hands, felt it between his fingers. “On the last night, too…” He looked back up at her. “Thank you for getting it for me. I appreciate it. It probably would have been… worse, if I was there.”   
She nodded, patting his hands. “I’ve got you, don’t worry about it. You finish getting ready now, so you can get out there and be great.” She walked off to her dressing room and he sighed, looking at the fabric again as he ducked back through his door.   
“Tikki,” he whispered.   
She popped out of the makeup bag on his desk, clip-on earrings dangling from her antennas. “What’s up, Jamie?” she chirped.  
“I have a bad feeling about this.” 

\---

The lights were out entirely, now. A dim spotlight shone onto the closed curtains, and soft music drifted out from somewhere in the room. They parted, and a woman stood in the middle of the stage, walking towards the audience.   
The singing began.   
Kevin narrowed his eyes; he’d never been one for musicals.   
“She has a strong voice,” Plaag whispered.   
“Can it,” Kevin hissed.   
The music picked up and a crowd of characters hustled onstage, loudly talking and laughing. Jamie was shoved out of the group, arms flailing as he stumbled to regain his balance. He laughed off some joke or another before turning and pretending to spot the woman on stage for the first time.   
He looked… vibrant. Happy. His face was open, his body language relaxed, and his voice filled the room as though this was where it had always belonged. He turned out toward the audience and Kevin shrunk into his seat again, adrenaline pumping, but Jamie never looked down at the front rows, eyes focused on the middle distance as he spoke.   
Kevin bit his lip. He’d never seen Jamie in his element before. He shone on the stage; his confidence was infectious.   
“We should have gone to one of his shows sooner,” Plaag mumbled.   
“Yeah,” he whispered back. 

\---

Jamie knew he was killing it.   
They were almost halfway through the play—almost to his solo—and he hadn’t missed a beat, not a word or step out of place. It was almost hard to stay in character during the sad scenes because his chest was filled with giddy excitement. It was, by far, their best performance yet.   
The music slowed, and the rest of the cast filed off stage. Jamie whirled around dramatically, as though noticing their absence for the first time. He cast a sly smirk to the audience before getting into his first position.   
_Maybe lift your arms a little higher_ , echoed Tikki’s voice in his head. He did. The music resumed and he swung them down, snapping to the beat, moving through the steps in his character’s not-so-private dance.   
_One two three four,  
One two_—He took a deep breath.   
“It’s gonna be great—” 

The music stopped and the room fell into blackness.   
Jamie paused, blinking in confusion. “What—?” he mumbled, but there was no echo. His mic was cut. _Did the power go out?_ He wondered, but something felt wrong.   
His skin crawled.   
_I shouldn’t have left Tikki in the dressing room._  
He turned to feel his way backstage, but before he could move an inch, something seized him by the throat. A loud choked noise was forced out of him as his hands flew up to grab at whatever had him, but the hand he found there had a firm grip. He scratched at it with his nails, trying to shake off his assailant, but they yanked him backward. He stumbled into something solid—their chest? Something cold and blunt was pressed to his jaw, forcing his head to the side.   
The spotlight came on, shining directly into his eyes. He winced as he heard the audience gasp.  
This is not how this was supposed to go.  
The hand yanked him upward, lifting him off of the ground. A good amount of his weight rested on the torso behind him, but it was getting so difficult to breathe. He kicked backward, trying to make contact, but no matter how hard he hit, the assailant didn’t flinch.   
“Well, well,” they finally said. Their voice echoed through the room as though it were connected to the speakers. Jamie still couldn’t see them, but he knew. He knew that voice.   
Edward.   
“Looks like a full house here tonight,” he continued. “Too bad, so sad, that the lot of you came here for a good show and got Jamie instead.”   
Jamie almost had time to feel offended, but the grip tightened on his neck. He could hardly rasp in a breath anymore. His legs twitched to a halt.   
“You can all call me the Lead. You know, I tried to get this role. I did my best, but they told me I _didn’t have the voice for it_ … So.” Jamie’s head was jerked to the side as the cold object was pressed harder against his jaw. “I thought I’d come get it myself.”   
The hand loosened slightly. Jamie took a deep gasp of breath and tried to yell, tried to speak, tried to say something, but all that came out was a choked noise that rasped like glass. It felt like it was tearing itself from him, leaving an exit wound behind instead of his throat. He tried to scream—the pain burned, it burned _so_ bad—but nothing came out.   
The hand released him and he fell to the floor, landing hard on his knees before catching himself on his hands. He grabbed his throat and gasped in air, an intense ringing sound shrieking in his ears, but when he tried to speak no noise came out. He tried to yell; more of the same.   
He looked up and, for the first time, met his eyes. Edward was taller than usual, more muscular, and the backup costume that had fit him so perfectly had been warped into some sick echo of the protagonist's outfit. Jamie had seen countless akumas before, but he’d never had one look at him with such malice in their eyes.   
He turned away from Jamie, towards the audience in front of them. Jamie wasn’t sure whether they were bound to their seats or rigid with fear, but nobody moved.   
“Well,” said the Lead softly, but it didn’t sound like the Lead. Jamie's jaw dropped when he realized—he was speaking with Jamie’s voice.   
The Lead’s face twisted into a sick grin.   
“It’s showtime.” 

\---

The fear in Jamie’s eyes, the hand tightening around his neck, the hiss of pain, his voice echoing out of the akuma’s mouth.   
Kevin tried to stand but Plaag yanked him back by the hood. “ _Wait_ ,” he hissed, “you have to wait for an opening or you’ll both be caught.”   
Jamie was on his knees, coughing and grabbing at his throat.   
“He stole his voice,” Kevin whispered in horror.   
Someone in the front row stood, making a run for the exit, but the Lead pointed his microphone at them and they froze. He pointed it back to their seat and they fell into it as though shoved, frozen to the spot.   
“Now, now,” the Lead continued in Jamie’s voice, “no need for that. You wouldn’t want to miss _this_ show.” He turned and leisurely walked further back on the stage, positioning himself behind Jamie. “First, we can do a little improv practice. See if we can’t make an actor of you yet.” He reached down and grabbed Jamie’s arms, wrenching them behind his back. “So, here’s your role. You’re the _captive_ , and you’re being tied up to watch my show until Ladybug and Chat Noir get here. Figure out your own motivation.”   
He motioned as though he were tying Jamie’s arms behind his back, even though there was no rope in his hands. He stood straighter, satisfied, and looked up at the ceiling. He mimed twirling the rope above his head before hurling it up and over the rafters, grabbing it as it came back down, and giving it a solid yank.   
Jamie’s arms were pulled up behind him, hauling him to his feet and off of the ground for a moment before he stumbled back down. Kevin moved to stand again, seeing red, but Plaag yanked him back down. The Lead grinned wickedly.   
“A fantastic performance, wouldn’t you agree, everyone?” he asked, gesturing out to the crowd. Despite all of the rage barely contained in his chest, Kevin’s hands came up to clap of their own volition. It seemed that everybody’s did; the auditorium was filled with raucous applause. “Oh, you all flatter me,” cooed the Lead. “Alright, now that we’ve got his role sorted out, we can get on with the show. Where were we again? The solo?” 

\---

Jamie’s shoulders throbbed. He couldn’t see any rope around his hands, but he could feel the rasp of it burning his wrists.   
The damned Lead was dancing now, singing with his voice, performing the solo he’d so rudely interrupted.   
_I can’t transform without Tikki. And even if she found out what’s going on and got to me here, I can’t transform on stage in front of a crowd of people. I need someone to let me down._ Jamie started scanning the audience, trying to see if he could spot anyone that would meet his eyes. Only the front few rows were illuminated enough for him to see, but—  
His stomach dropped.   
_Kevin?_  
Kevin was sat hunched in the second row, alternating between staring daggers at the Lead and glancing at the exit.   
_If Kevin is Chat, and we’re both stuck here… then we’re fucked_ , Jamie realized. For the first time, he felt the edge of hopelessness creep in.   
Kevin met his eyes and paused, something bashful flashing across his face before he jerked his head to the exit. Jamie raised an eyebrow, confused, but Kevin started mouthing something to him:   
_I need to get out of here_ , he mouthed.   
Jamie rolled his eyes. _Me, too._  
 _Distract him._ Kevin looked pointedly at the Lead.   
Jamie pursed his lips, not sure how to. He couldn’t heckle him, he couldn’t move far or grab him… all he still had was his feet.   
_Wait_ , he thought, watching the Lead move through the complicated footwork of the solo.   
_I can work with that._

\---

Kevin saw the moment that Jamie came up with his plan. His eyes went from uncertain to firm, from scared to determined.   
He stomped once. Loudly.   
The Lead stopped in his tracks, slowly turning towards him. “ _What?_ ” he spat, slowly getting closer. Jamie shook his head.  
 _You’re doing it wrong,_ he mouthed. _Like this._ He began doing the steps for the dance, going through the footwork as the Lead fumed.   
Kevin was already halfway to the door.   
“Your role is _captive_ ,” the Lead yelled, getting closer, “not _dance instructor_!”   
Kevin was almost to the door but he froze, watching as the Lead closed the gap and grabbed Jamie by the jaw, wrenching his head back. Kevin felt the rage boiling inside of him and he turned, ready to fight him then and there, but he was yanked backward through the door by his hood.   
The door slammed shut behind them as Kevin fell flat on his back in the hallway.   
“What the _fuck_ , Plaag," Kevin spat, picking himself up. He glanced around; the hall was empty. Plaag seemed to notice, too, finally leaving the hood to float freely.   
“Are you stupid?” Plaag asked. “You can’t fight him like this! You’ll just get tied up like Jamie, and then what? You both just wait until he gets bored and lets you go?”   
Kevin’s head pounded and his face felt red with anger. He whirled around, looking for the nearest bathroom before stomping in and beckoning Plaag to come with him. 

\---

Kevin got out.   
Thank god, Kevin got out.   
It was the only thing that Jamie could hold onto at that moment. His arms were strung up above his head, his voice gone, and now his feet felt as though they’d been cemented to the floor. He ached all over.   
A new voice boomed across the room and Jamie nearly jumped out of his skin.   
“I think your tempo’s off, sir,” it said. The light turned on in the sound booth at the back of the auditorium, revealing a silhouette with pointed ears lounging with a microphone.   
Chat Noir.   
Jamie could have cried in relief.   
The Lead, however, was livid. “No talking during the show!” he yelled in his own voice.   
“You call this a show?” Chat continued, standing. “My bad, I thought I interrupted practice.”   
The Lead wound up with fury, pointing his microphone at the booth and firing off a beam from the end. Chat easily dodged it. “Oh, come on, dude, you come here to try to replace the real lead and you still keep him on stage? You still need him here for the show to be worth it? Seems contradictory.”   
“No, I don’t _need_ him!” the Lead insisted, waving a hand vaguely in Jamie’s direction.  
The pull on his wrists and the weight on his feet both vanished simultaneously. Jamie nearly crumpled to the stage, barely steadying his legs and keeping his balance. He eyed the Lead and, certain that he was sufficiently distracted, he turned and sprinted backstage.   
“Why don’t you come and give me a real show, outside?” he heard Chat taunt over the speakers.   
_I need to get to Tikki._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight this was supposed to be three parts but then I added a whole villain so now it's going to be four lol. stay tuned


End file.
